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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29670234">won't you be my cherry</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/dopaminekeeper/pseuds/dopaminekeeper'>dopaminekeeper</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>ONEUS (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - College/University, Anal Play, Camboy Youngjo, Masturbation, Nipple Piercings, Other, Sex Toys, Sex Work, Sexual Fantasy, cam shows, slight gender play - see a/n</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 23:48:00</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,075</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29670234</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/dopaminekeeper/pseuds/dopaminekeeper</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>ravn is a camboy.  dongju thinks he might want to be one, too.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Kim Youngjo | Ravn/Son Dongju | Xion</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>46</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>won't you be my cherry</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>wild that it's taken me this long to write a camboy fic. anyways! here we go.</p>
<p>re: the tags -- dongju has some unprocessed Gender Feelings in this fic, expressed through his sexual fantasies of dressing up as and being called a girl/feminine terms.</p>
<p>title from rina sawayama's 'cherry'</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The lights in Ravn’s bedroom are a different color every time.  Dongju thinks he must have those customizable ones, the kind with a remote control and all kinds of settings.  Dongju’s a little jealous — his string lights only have three settings and are tacked up along his walls with duct tape.</p>
<p>Tonight, the lights are a soft blue, casting the bedroom on his little screen in long, dark shadows.  Ravn’s not in frame yet, the camera focused only on an empty bed and the little stream of hearts and comments steadily growing in speed.  Gentle music pulsates in the background.</p>
<p>Dongju barely remembers when he started doing this — probably around the time he started taking four classes instead of three, and also when normal porn started making him feel nauseated instead of aroused.  Approximately when he stopped cutting his hair and began painting his nails and made a new private Twitter.  Not that any of those things were connected.</p>
<p>He adjusts his airpods as Ravn moves into frame, crawling onto the bed with a kind of feline grace that looks so natural that Dongju would bet anything it’s practiced.</p>
<p>It’s always a toss-up what kind of outfit he’ll have on — sometimes he’ll look rumpled and sleepy in soft athleticwear, sometimes it’s a full clubbing getup with glitter and mesh.  Once or twice, he’d caught Dongju completely off-guard in an outfit he could only describe as an eboy’s wet dream — flared, black skirt and sheer tights, choker and chunky boots.  Those particular nights stick in Dongju’s memory.</p>
<p>Tonight, though, is a bit of a mix: leather pants cling tight to Ravn’s legs, contrasting nicely with a soft black sweater, torn around the collar.  The hem falls right around the bottom of his ribcage, leaving his pale midriff exposed.  It suits him, Dongju thinks, that combination of hard and soft.</p>
<p>“Hi, everyone,” Ravn says, voice low, lips turned up at the corners.  “It’s good to see you.”</p>
<p>Dongju always has the impulse to answer, even though it makes him feel silly when he does.  Ravn always sounds sincere when he addresses his audience, though there’s no way for Dongju to be sure he isn’t faking everything.</p>
<p>Ravn sits back on his knees, legs slightly spread and sinking into the duvet, the light overhead reflecting slightly off his leather-clad thighs.  There’s a gentle curve to his hips that Dongju envies at the same time he wants to run his fingers over it.</p>
<p>“I missed all of you,” Ravn continues, that same hushed, gentle tone.  “I really look forward to our nights, y’know?”</p>
<p>He leans forward slightly to peer closer at his monitor, presumably, and laughs.</p>
<p>“Not <em>just </em>because I get to dress up, but that’s definitely part of it.”</p>
<p>Ravn’s fingers play coyly at the collar of his sweater and Dongju barely realizes he’s matching the movement, stroking over the patch of skin exposed by the dipping collar of his own sweater, stretched-out from countless laundry cycles.  Right now, Dongju’s dressed in soft pinks and heather grays while Ravn’s in all black, and Dongju’s hit by the stray thought of what they’d look like next to each other, wrapped around each other, stark lines and soft edges.  He swallows, throat rising and dipping under his own fingertips.</p>
<p>“I’m always so happy when you come back,” Ravn says, leaning forward on his hands to get closer to the camera, gently curling bangs falling into his eyes and lips curved in a red-purple bow.  “It makes me feel really special.”</p>
<p>Dongju’s skin crawls in a good way, unable to escape the feeling that this is meant for <em>him, </em>even if he can see the stream of hearts and comments and tokens filling up the right side of the screen.</p>
<p>Ravn calls out a few comments by name, thanks them for the tips that they drop in.  He smiles when one of them calls him a tease, letting the drag of his fingers pull his shirt up a little higher.</p>
<p>“You know what to do if you want something,” he says — always so quiet, never put-on or exaggerated.</p>
<p>There’s a little progress bar under the video for the tip pool, each goal bigger, more intense — it’s currently halfway to Ravn taking his shirt off and filling fast.</p>
<p>Dongju’s broke enough that he rarely contributes money.  He feels guilty for it, wishing he could do more, give more.  He never understood the appeal of this kind of thing until he realized it could be his influence that gets Ravn to strip his clothes off, or pick a toy to play with, or touch himself.</p>
<p>The chat lights up with the notification that someone’s paid enough to spin the stupid little chance wheel that’s built into the site’s system, various acts written in each section that get clearer as it slows and ticks to a stop.</p>
<p>“Thank you, sweetheart.”  Ravn tilts his head, leaning towards the camera as he slides two of his own fingers between his lips, eyes slipping shut as he mouths at them, licking showily between.  When he pulls them away, Dongju can see the glimmer of spit even through the slightly grainy stream.  Heat crawls down his body.  He finds himself tracing over his own lips.</p>
<p>Ravn’s sweater comes off soon after, discarded by his side, lithe form pale in the soft blue lights.  The first time Dongju had watched, he’d been completely blindsided by the barbells through his nipples, roses to match the hardware in his ears.  He plays with one idly, scanning over the response in the chat.</p>
<p>“You want to touch them?” he asks, and Dongju finds himself nodding.  Ravn smiles.  “I wish you could, too.  Feels really nice.</p>
<p>"I played with someone, once, who had them, too," he continues, sighing as he feels himself up.  "He was so sensitive… almost came just from me sucking on them."</p>
<p>Dongju’s breath hitches, trying to picture it.  He knows that he's supposed to imagine himself pushing Ravn down to his bed, making him cry out, but Dongju can't shake the idea of being that nameless, faceless boy in that story.  He drags his hands over his own chest, sweater providing rough friction.</p>
<p>He's jolted back into the moment by Ravn’s laughter.</p>
<p>"Bring him on sometime?  Well, I can ask, but he's kind of shy."  Ravn’s lips twist at whatever he sees in response.  "Hey, it's not for everyone, okay?  Not everyone likes having an audience as much as I do."</p>
<p>Dongju swallows, thighs pressing together.  Something hot and terrifying gathering in the pit of his stomach.  It's not like he <em>hasn't </em>thought about it — visiting the other side of the site where he could open an account, create a profile, remake himself in an image that people would pay to get even a glance at.</p>
<p>This is usually the point where he'd shake himself out of it, remember that something like <em>that </em>isn't for boys like <em>him,</em>but Ravn seems to be dead set on making him think about it.</p>
<p>"Maybe one of you would like to be my guest star instead?" Ravn says, grinning as the progress bar pings its completion for the second time and he sets his hands on his belt, sliding it slowly out of its loops.  "You could come on here and take the audience requests… I couldn't tease if someone else was in charge, could I?"</p>
<p>Dongju watches, rapt, as Ravn pops the button on his pants, sliding them down his thighs and laying back to get them the rest of the way off.  Black briefs cling to the slight curve of his hips, the shape of his half-hard cock.</p>
<p>“Or maybe,” Ravn says, rolling back up to his knees, fingers teasing at his waistband, “one of you would like to take a turn in my place?  See how it feels to have everyone watching while I touch you exactly how they say.”</p>
<p>Each word lands like a sucker punch.  Dongju can’t <em>stop</em> thinking about it — if it were him, what would the audience say?  Would they want him to be a tease, to talk back?  Or maybe they’d want him quiet except for the noises Ravn would draw out of him.  Maybe they’d want him dressed up and pretty, made up like a doll.  Maybe Ravn could dress him —</p>
<p>Dongju’s snapped out of the hurricane spiral of his own thoughts by Ravn’s quiet laughter.  Focusing back in on the screen, he sees that Ravn’s pushed down his underwear, stroking himself lazily.</p>
<p>"We're gonna go slow, okay?” he says, nearly purring.  “You and I are gonna take our time together."</p>
<p>With an exhale that sounds deafening in his own ears, Dongju finally allows himself the luxury of touching his own straining arousal — first through his sweatpants, then reaching in and teasing over the head.</p>
<p>“Fuck,” he mumbles, pulling himself out properly and reaching to his bedside table for lube, squirting it messily into his palm.  Some of it runs over his wrist.  <em>“Fuck.”</em></p>
<p>"I'd like to see all of you.  I bet you're all so pretty."  Ravn sits back, one leg curled beneath him.  "We'd be so pretty together, wouldn't we?"</p>
<p>Dongju can't stop looking at Ravn's mouth, glistening in the low, blue light.  He wants to kiss it, to be kissed by him, to join him on that bed and get messy on camera together.</p>
<p>He wonders how Ravn would dress him up for a show like that… a skirt, maybe, like the one that Dongju keeps secret in his closet from last Halloween; a sweater like the one he's wearing now, pretty and pink and soft.  Dongju thinks about smudging glitter around his eyes, on his cheeks, maybe smearing Barbie-pink gloss on his lips for Ravn to kiss away.  He thinks about how the audience might call him pretty, a sweet girl, a princess, a little slut.</p>
<p>Ravn’s voice filters back in, jolting Dongju out of the syrupy thickness of his fantasy.  His hand tightens on his dick and he forces his eyes to focus back in on the screen where Ravn’s working two fingers into himself.</p>
<p>"Fuck, that's nice," Ravn breathes, stretching himself showily.  "You all treat me so well."</p>
<p>Dongju's fingers skate unconsciously down and he whines as he's foiled by his sweatpants bunched around his hips.  He shoves them down his legs, tossing them to the floor without checking where they end up.</p>
<p>"You want to put something in me?" Ravn asks, equal parts coy and earnestly sweet.  The nearly-full progress bar marked with a cheeky eggplant emoji taunts Dongju just below the video.  "Come on, you know what to do, you're almost there."</p>
<p>Dongju huffs, feeling blindly in his bedside drawer for his own toy.  He's been meaning to replace it for months since the vibrator part died, but it works fine as a normal dildo, too.  He fumbles it, hands still a little slick with lube, and drops it onto the bed.  He has to shove his computer over so he can spread his legs, goosebumps rising on his bare skin in the slightly-chilly air.</p>
<p>“So close,” Ravn says, and with his airpods in it sounds like he’s speaking directly into Dongju’s ears, “just a little more and I’m yours.”</p>
<p>He exhales shakily, managing to squeeze more lube onto his fingers without spilling it all over himself, and quickly fits two into himself, catching up with Ravn on-screen.  It’s too much, too fast, but Dongju likes how the stretch burns a little, how it makes him want to squirm and curl up small and tight around the pressure.</p>
<p><em>Would his audience want him to go fast,</em> he wonders, <em>or would they want him to torment himself, so slow that he cries from it?</em></p>
<p>The <em>ping!</em> of the stream’s progress bar is almost lost under Dongju’s whining.  He forces himself to focus on the screen where Ravn’s three fingers deep, free hand roaming over his chest and up to run over the slick curve of his mouth.</p>
<p>“Thank you,” Ravn murmurs, lips curving up.  Dongju watches, rapt, as he reaches for the deep blue dildo sitting next to him on the bed.  It’s not huge, but not small either, and Dongju’s breath catches in his chest when Ravn brings it to his mouth.</p>
<p>“You’ve been so good to me,” he continues, lips moving against the molded silicone tip.  “You should make yourselves feel good too, okay?  Can you do that for me?”</p>
<p>He smiles gently before opening his mouth and sliding the toy inside in one smooth motion.  Dongju can <em>see</em> when it hits his throat and keeps going a couple inches further.  The wet sounds should be gross but they just make heat curl in Dongju’s stomach.  The small part of him that isn’t drowning in white noise wonders how Ravn learned to do that, if <em>he</em> could learn how with enough practice.</p>
<p>Ravn deepthroats the toy a couple more times before letting it fall from his lips, breathing heavily, mouth glistening.  He grins and licks the tip lazily, tossing a wink at the camera, then brings it down to tease at his hole.  Dongju doesn’t know how he does it, coy and sweet one moment and cocky the next.</p>
<p>The sound Ravn makes when the dildo sinks into him is soft and satisfied, breathy, like he’s sinking into a warm bath instead of fucking himself on camera.  Dongju lubes up his own toy, desperate to join him, to feel anything close to what Ravn’s feeling.</p>
<p>When Dongju fucks himself open, he sounds a lot shakier, whiny and slutty even to his own ears, tremulous over the soft sounds playing through his airpods.</p>
<p><em>“Fuck, </em>you’re making me feel so good,” Ravn groans, tugging at his own hair.  “Feels so big inside me… love it when you fill me up.”</p>
<p>Dongju tries to match Ravn’s pace, coordinating his own jerky, desperate thrusts with Ravn’s even, practiced, sinuous movements.  He thinks again of what they’d look like next to each other, what the audience would say if they could see him trying to mirror Ravn now.</p>
<p><em>Show him how it’s done, </em>the audience would tell Ravn.  <em>Fuck h</em><em>im for us, he clearly can’t do it on his own.  What a princess, can’t even fuck himself right.</em></p>
<p>“Gonna make me come,” Ravn murmurs, the sound curling around the nape of Dongju’s neck and sending a shiver down his back.  “Can I come?  Please?”</p>
<p>Dongju watches the chat explode with contradictory answers, but Dongju knows somehow that Ravn will do exactly what he wants.</p>
<p>“Thank you,” Ravn says, voice verging on ragged, “thank you, you’re so good to me, thank you.”</p>
<p>Dongju’s so caught up in the way Ravn looks when he comes that he almost stops fucking himself, pace slowing to a crawl.  Ravn’s body is loud where his voice isn’t — his back arches, throat long and pale in the blue light, lips shiny and parted and curved up just slightly, whole body shaking as he spills all over himself.</p>
<p>Dongju shudders deeply, fucking himself with a renewed fervor, suddenly desperate to hit that peak.  He can feel himself leaking, hot where his sweater is rucked up under his armpits, and his stomach clenches with every thrust even though his wrist is starting to hurt.</p>
<p>He can’t tear his eyes away when Ravn drags his fingers through the cum on his skin, looking directly into the camera as he slips them into his mouth.  Despite everything his logical brain wants to tell him, it really does feel like he’s staring directly at Dongju as he does it — an invitation or a promise, he doesn’t know, but Dongju wants it so badly he thinks he might crawl out of his skin.</p>
<p>
  <em>Would Ravn make him swallow it, if they were together?  If the audience wanted him to lick it from Ravn’s fingers, would he do it?  Would Ravn smile and ask for a taste of him in return?</em>
</p>
<p>Dongju’s pace quickens even as the Ravn on-screen laughs and says something like, <em>thank you, see you next time.</em>  He can’t stop thinking, thinking —</p>
<p><em>A whole sea of anonymous faces, and all to see him put on something pretty and make himself feel good.  They’d want him so badly, and he’d </em>make <em>them want him. </em><em> Their pretty girl, their slutty little princess, their beautiful doll, he’d do it for them.</em></p>
<p>“Thank you,” Ravn says, smile close to the camera, cheeks still flushed, “you made me feel really good tonight.  I hope you felt good, too.”</p>
<p>Dongju comes gasping and whining, fingers in his own mouth to muffle the pathetic noises he makes as he clenches and shakes apart.  It’s the hardest he’s come in a while, lasting long enough to have his toes curling and wrist cramping up.</p>
<p>When he finally manages to force his fingers to release their death grip on the dildo and drag it out of him, he collapses like a ragdoll on the bed.  Ravn’s stream is off, and Dongju can faintly see his debauched reflection staring back at him in that little black square.</p>
<p>“Fuck,” he mutters, tossing the toy to the floor to clean up later.  He wrinkles his nose as he notices the cum on his sweater, wriggling out of that and flinging it in the direction of his laundry basket.  <em>“Fuck!”</em></p>
<p>He’s still a little shaky and, suddenly, feels very, <em>very</em> exposed.  Quick as he can, Dongju cleans himself off with a tissue and then squirms under the duvet.  The weight of the blanket is comforting, grounding, and he finds his head clearing as he drags the computer back onto his lap.</p>
<p>Usually, at this point, he closes the cam site and dicks around on youtube or twitter, but something nags at him — he can’t bring himself to click that little ‘x’.  He scrolls through his feed but the site remains up in another tab, staring at him, just daring him to acknowledge it.</p>
<p>He doesn’t know what makes him do it.  Maybe it’s a delayed endorphin rush, or maybe he’s just fuzzy from exhaustion, but at a certain point he’s closed every tab but one.</p>
<p>The performer side of the site isn’t all that different from the customer side, he finds.  It’ll be pretty easy to set up a streaming profile.  A little terrifying, sure, but Dongju thinks about it, and if Ravn can make it work, why can’t he?</p>
<p>He bites his thumbnail and smiles slightly and hits “create account.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>the camshow interface described is based on a real website -- make sure to tip your cammers folks!!!</p>
<p>you can follow me here on <a href="https://twitter.com/dopaminekeeper">twitter</a>! 18+ only</p></blockquote></div></div>
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